Magic Spawn Origins

Magic Spawn: Chapter 76

by Meredith Skye

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 In the middle of the field, Molan and Aldena engaged in a vicious battle. Her tight-fitting black leather steampunk corset and skirt provided natural armor.

Molan pressed his advantage, as Aldena retreated. Both fought with swords. Rian had rarely seen a fight where anyone could beat his Aunt, but Molan was coming close to it. Rian wouldn't have expected such swordsmanship from a necromancer, but who knew how long Molan had lived? Or under what circumstances?

Perhaps he only maintained his advantage through spells. Rian wondered how long they would hold up, now that his magic-spawn had defected.

Now, Aldena fought hard but she looked tired, favoring her left shoulder which was stained with blood. See that the necromancer's back was partly turned to him, Rian forward, hoping that he could flank Molan.

"Hey, here's something I owe you!" said Rian as he brought his sword up over his head and down on the magic user's head in what he was sure was a killing blow. But Rian watched in consternation as the blade simply turned aside at the last moment.

Some kind of magical shield? Strangely, Rian could sense it, even if he couldn't see it.

Now, Molan cast a glance back at Rian, as if he were a mere annoyance. At that moment, Aldena rushed the necromancer with her sword but he spoke a word—as he waved his hand at her and a small burst of pure white sparkling energy leapt at her. The thin white membrane caught her on the face and stuck, covering her mouth and nose. She fought to remove it but failed.

The thing had cut off her air—she was suffocating!

"Let her go!" demanded Rian, though he couldn't think of a reason why the necromancer should.

Molan only laughed at this. "Lay down your weapon, and I will."

"Not a chance," spat Rian. Molan would never keep his word anyway. Now Rian went on the offensive. Making strike after strike on the magic user. Molan defended, though perhaps not with as much vigor as he might have if he hadn't been protected by that shield.

Time was of the essence. How long could Aldena hold her breath? Rian hoped that if he killed Molan, then she'd be freed. But each time he landed a blow perhaps it would weaken Molan's shield.

With that hope, he battered Molan with attack after attack. For a wizard, Molan was pretty good at fighting. But a few attacks got through—and should have hit but were deflected. One, two, three. How many could the magic user take before his magical shield failed? Or did it simply last a certain amount of time? Usually there were limits to these things ... at least in gaming.

Four, five.

Now he though he saw Molan wince as he cut across his shoulder. Surely that hit! It certainly felt like it did.

Now the necromancer retreated a step. It felt like a victory. Rian followed, launching a snap-thrust to the face which landed! This knocked the necromancer back, drawing blood from his mouth.

He lost his balance and fell backwards. Rian didn't hesitate, but stepping in and took careful aim, stabbing the necromancer through the heart! He screamed as the blade penetrated, thrashing wildly as he went down. But Rian stayed on top of him, thrusting the blade in farther, pinning him to the ground so that he couldn't get up.

This was the killing blow. Rian didn't pause to doubt his action, nor did he feel regret. He didn't think at all, he just let his sword slash down on the necromancer.